Forgotten Dates
by A lost lily
Summary: His impending graduation from high school stresses Dean out to the point of snapping at Sammy on a very important day with disasterous consequences. Lots of limp and angst to go around.


It was a formula for an explosion.

The air conditioning in the tiny, dilapidated house that John Winchester had rented for his sons had been out for over a week, and it was a record setting sweltering day in early May. Add to that that it was only two weeks before Dean Winchester's high school graduation and the fact that he had gotten his first ever so polite 'no' to a request for a date and you had a disaster waiting to happen. When Sam got in from school Dean was sprawled in the middle of his bed, their only box fan pointed directly at him, with his eyes closed as he listened to some blasting, pulsing rock music on his headphones.

"Dean?" Sam was standing in the doorway, an annoyingly excited grin on his face. It was a special day indeed, he was turning 14. Dean always found some way to make his birthdays exceptionally embarrassing or fun or exciting—they were always memorable—and he was eager to see what he had planned for this one. "I'm home."

Dean groaned, taking the pillow out from under his head and hurling it at his little brother. Had it been any other year he wouldn't have forgotten about Sammy's birthday (it was a point of pride for him that he planned more and more elaborate things each year) but it seemed that this year nothing was going right. He had no idea what the hell he was going to do after high school was over. Though he had never really been one for education, and though he had hated school through and through since he had started, there was something about sitting in home room and hearing everyone discuss their European graduation trips, the schools they were enrolling in for the fall, and their elaborate life plans that made him jealous. He wasn't going to move on to some high powered job, he was going to follow in the family tradition of swindling the credit card companies and falsifying documents to hunt demons, and it wasn't the sort of thing you could brag about to kids. He felt jealous of their perfect lives, and though he might well be the one they called one day to clean up after a possession or attack, for right now he was just going to be the kid who only barely finished high school.

And it stung. He didn't make good grades like Sammy, he didn't have a full ride athletic scholarship like his friend Jack (though the state school had offered him a thousand dollars a semester to help defray his costs he had never even considered it an option, as there would still be a sizeable amount left over to pay.) He was average, and, if he ever stopped hunting, he'd become a mechanic or factory worker and bust his ass to do average work. He worried about that, about living his life and being so sickeningly normal that he couldn't stand himself anymore.

All in all, he had been so wrapped up in his own black hole of a future that he barely registered the calendar spilling over to May and Sam's birthday once again rolling around.

"Dean!"

Dean blinked, looking up at his brother with exasperation clear on his face. "What is it, Sammy?"

Something about the short tone of Dean's voice made Sam furious. It was his birthday after all and because their father was gone, Dean was the only one he had to spend it with, and now he was getting yelled at? It wasn't how it was supposed to go at all. They might just have each other, but they had always looked out for one another, and Sam was counting on Dean to make his birthday something nice instead of just another day. He had a father to do that. "I'm hungry." He said petulantly, crossing his arms and hoping that Dean would get the hint that it was time to step out of asshole mode and into big brother mode.

"So?" Dean asked, turning up the volume on his headphones. "You're a big boy, Sammy, thirteen whole years old. I think you can walk your sasquatch ass into the kitchen and make a sandwhich. Get me one too while you're at it, Samantha, and make yourself useful."

Sam gaped at Dean, completely shocked that his brother had not remembered. He was no longer thirteen, he was FOURTEEN, and Dean had forgotten. Dean…Dad…

"What's the hold up, Sammy boy?" Dean asked, already feeling the guilt coming as he saw the shocked look on Sam's face. Seeing Sam made him feel even more fear. Would his brother be embarrassed of him when he didn't go off to school? He knew that a lot of Sammy's friends had cool older brothers in college, what if Sam resented that he didn't have someone to brag about? The last thing he ever wanted to do was be an embarrassment to Sammy, to hold him back. "Suck it up and go get something to eat. Thirteen years of holding your hand and wiping your ass is enough, you're a big kid now." He might as well have been talking to himself in that trademarked sarcastic tone. Dean Winchester was a big kid now, and it was high time he decided whether he was going to follow his father or go the normal route…but somehow the decision was too big. He worried that either way he decided it would be the wrong decision, and that he could stand to lose everything. As Sam slowly shuffled from the room, he didn't realize that he already had lost far too much.

--

"Sam?" Dean awoke from a nap to discover the house too quiet. He had not bothered to turn on any lights when he got home that afternoon (John was always preaching about saving money and they May sunshine had lit the small house rather well) but now that it was after midnight the house was very dark and very quiet. Something wasn't right. Getting off of the bed he flipped on a light switch and went from the empty living room to the deserted kitchen, still seeing no sight of Sam.

_If he's went over to a friend's house without telling me just because I yelled at him I'll kill him_, Dean though, worry already making its way into his mind.

He sat down at the table, discovering the small envelope in his spot with a sense of dread. Sammy's neat, even handwriting had spelled out his name in the center, and the date in the upper left hand corner.

"May second…" Dean groaned, cursing himself inwardly. "Shit, no wonder…"

Fingers shaking, he opened the envelope, and a small half sheet of plain lined notebook paper fell out.

_Dean,_

_You don't worry about wiping my ass anymore. I'm a big boy now—FOURTEEN whole years old—and I won't bother you anymore._

_Sam Winchester_

"Fuck!" Clutching the paper hard enough to wrinkle it, Dean rose and began to pace quickly around the kitchen. Not only had he not protected Sam, this time he was the reason his brother was in danger. He was out there somewhere, by himself after midnight, and Dean had no one to blame but himself. His father was going to kick his ass, and for once he couldn't find a single reason why John Winchester would be wrong to blame him. "Damn it, Sammy!"

Finding his little brother wasn't going to be easy, he realized as he grabbed his keys and headed to the door. They weren't living in the best neighborhood to begin with, and the life that they had led had made Sam good at hiding when he needed to, but he had to find him.

There was no other alternative.


End file.
